


Five Times Jim's Memories Weren't His

by chaya



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, UST, crossover maybe kinda, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk isn't completely the same after the mind-meld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Jim's Memories Weren't His

1.  
  
They were on the bridge killing time, it was nothing. Someone made a reference to their experience in a history class and the difficulty of understanding the twentieth century. Jim grinned at Spock and murmured some little inside joke, trivial really, something he barely remembered later. Hats? He doesn't recall. Spock wrote it off as some human pop culture reference and wondered, quietly, why such a joke would be directed at him. Perhaps it had been intended as a slight.  
  
Nobody else seemed to get it either.  
  
  
2.  
  
Spock wasn't sure when he told the Captain that he was vegetarian. He must have. The Captain remembers every time they're in the mess. He'll pick fights with servers that aren't sure of all the ingredients, and even once set aside all the artichoke hearts in his salad; when Spock noticed, he couldn't help himiself.  
  
"Captain, I don't suppose you have an allergy of some sort to those? They... happen to be a particular favourite of mine." It couldn't hurt to ask - nobody was around to hear, and Kirk was overly intimate in his comments and requests almost as a rule.  
  
"To what? --oh." Jim looked down at his plate as if he hadn't even realized he was doing it. "I'm not allergic, I don't know why... yeah, sure, have them."  
  
Surely a fortunate coincidence. It was only logical.  
  
  
3.  
  
"I just look really _young_ ," he was telling Sulu at the mirror.  
  
"You look the same to me, Captain. Have you started moisturizing or something?"  
  
A lieutenant elsewhere in the medbay snorted audibly.  
  
Spock thought to himself that if people in line for vaccine shots had enough time to engage in such levels of vanity as this? The line was not going quickly enough.  
  
"No, just, don't I look... I don't know. Thinner? Smoother? Definitely just..." Kirk waved at his reflection, frowning. "My hair's at least changed..."  
  
"So get a new haircut," Bones muttered, and picked up a fresh syringe.

  
  
4.  
  
Kirk had opinions on every other Captain in Starfleet. It was ridiculous.  
  
"He hasn't even been in command for two months." Spock raised one eyebrow. "Perhaps three times as long as you, but still hardly enough time to accurately measure his full personality."  
  
"He's a _dick_ ," Kirk repeated slowly, setting the transmission sheet back down on the meeting table.  
  
"With respect. Have you ever had direct contact with Captain Dyatlov?"  
  
"He's a _dick_ , and he _never fills his report sheets out properly._ " Kirk was emphatic. Worse, he was looking at Spock like _he_ should know all this. Spock gave up.  
  
  
5.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Spock. How are you?"  
  
"I am well." Spock had not guessed that he would need to prompt an explanation from Kirk as to why he was at his door at such an hour, but the Captain was not forthcoming. Instead the younger man gave a very unsubtle gesture toward the interior with a nod of his head and a lift of his eyebrow. Spock suppressed a sigh, moving to the side and allowing entry.

  
"It just seemed like it'd been a while, as all," Kirk said, almost distantly. "Figured I'd invite myself over."  
  
"A while," Spock echoed, containing the uncertainty to a small downward quirk of his mouth.  
  
"Yes. I haven't been here since..." Jim turned around then, chewing his lower lip in thought, and Spock watched as something in his expression changed. His eyes seemed to clear somewhat, and soon he was scanning the room. Another unremarkable living quarters, very standard, with few personal embellishments to speak of-  
  
"I've _never_ been here." Jim's voice was quiet and certain.  
  
Spock waited a moment before inclining his head. Four days and six hours since anything resembling a head injury - concussion unlikely. "Indeed, I'm not sure when it would ever be _appropriate_ for a Captain to make personal visits to living quarters, let alone at..." He turned to check the chronometer, but there was a sudden hand on his shoulder and this was jarring, beyond jarring, even Amanda knew not to touch him without any kind of warning, without being directly in front of him, without-  
  
"Haven't we been here before?"  
  
His mouth was dry. "Captain."  
  
But Jim wasn't answering, wasn't giving any kind of explanation. He was staring Spock down, silently demanding one from _him_ , and this - this didn't make sense. The Captain wasn't drunk, beta shift had just started, today had been so routine, nothing to foreshadow such abnormal behaviour, even for a human. Even for _this_ human.  
  
The hand was still tight on his shoulder, squeezing, and he felt like he had no other nerves but the one telling him _contact, contact, he's so close. So close to you._  
  
"Spock, I think I've been..."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Seeing things." A beat. "Hear... feeling things? Everything. Ing. Things, oh man,"  
  
And the hand retreated then,  
  
"Maybe it's getting late or something,"  
  
Somewhere far away Kirk was grinning that grin of his, taking a step back,  
  
"I'm sorry, Spock, I don't know what that was. This."  
  
Spock's shoulder had never felt more untouched. More needy. There was a strong and completely illogical urge to step forward, to close the space Jim had just opened. He fought it valiantly.  
  
"Captain, I strongly recommend that you visit sickbay before you return to your... own... quarters for the evening."  
  
Jim was nodding, already (no) moving towards the door. "I might actually do that. I'll... yes. See you tomorrow, old friend."  
  
He was gone. Spock blinked slowly, trapped in place for too long, before finally turning around. The book he'd been reading remained open on his desk. He couldn't remember the title or subject.  
  
Perhaps it was time to change for bed.


End file.
